The Heart in the Host
by TempeJill
Summary: Bones gets a new case involving something strange... and the twists and turns that will ensue may force her and Booth apart in a way that they have no control over.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, so this has never been done before, I'm pretty sure. You'll have to tell me what you think. :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bones or Host.**

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The bones before me were old and broken, with bits of burned flesh still attached to parts. Most of the organs were gone, and what was left I was certain Cam would take soon enough.

Hodgins was working on the opposite side of the table, a pair of tweezers working rapidly as he collected bits of dirt and other small particles. He was practically glowing with excitement as he held up certain pieces to squint at.

"Oh, wow," he muttered, studying one particular piece of dirt with extra eagerness, his blue eyes lighting up and a huge grin covering his face.

I didn't ask what it was; he'd tell me later, I was sure. And I didn't particularly care while I had my own business to attend to. These bones needed to be analyzed.

"Bones!" a familiar voice called. I looked up as Booth jogged to the platform, swiping his card through the scanner with particular haste before rushing up to join me. "Anything new?"

"No, not yet... what's wrong?"

He looked flustered, and his pupils clearly showed signs of alarm. His muscles were tense as well. He frowned before answering.

"Nothing. Just a new case came in; a few other agents got it covered... but I'm sure they'll send it to me before the end of today."

"Why?"

He shook his head and sighed, "There was something... _off_ about the whole thing."

"...is that another one of your gut feelings?" I asked. I didn't take much stock in his gut feelings usually... but this time something really seemed to have affected him. I was able to believe that something was truly wrong.

He shook his head; unusual since he usually told me off for only relying on science and not considering his instinct as an equal form of reason and a way of getting facts. Something was _really_ wrong. Now he had me worried.

"There was... something we've never seen before... in the brain."

My eyes widened. "I need to see it," I said. It wasn't a request. It was a necessity. The scientist in me was leaping at the opportunity, and I pushed away the worry that nagged slightly at the back of my mind. Whatever this was had _Booth_ scared... shouldn't I be scared too? No. Not me; I wasn't scared of anything. Or at least I tried not to admit it to anyone. Ever.

"Don't worry, you will." There was no joy or humor in his voice. His eyes were almost... dead looking. I frowned, allowing concern to show on my face. I figured I should let him know I was worried about him.

"Are you okay?" I asked carefully, half hoping he'd say sure, smile, and pull me away to the Diner. Unfortunately he frowned and then shook his head. Great. I was awful with comforting people. I usually asked _him_ for help with the sort of thing... or Ange, who wasn't there right then.

I stood there and just stared at him, wondering if I should speak... or wait.

I waited, because I didn't know what else to do.

He finally sighed, and then managed a pained smile. "One good thing... Hodgins is going to love this."

"Why?" I asked, confused.

"I've got to get back... I'm sure they'll be requesting a transfer of the case to the Jeffersonian any minute now." He turned to leave.

"Wait, why is Hodgins going to love this?" I demanded, starting to follow him.

He paused and turned back; I stopped short right in front of him.

"Aliens," he said simply, and there was no humor in his tone.

"But that's-"

"Impossible. Yeah I know, Bones. Bye."

I stood there for quite some time after he'd left the lab, just staring after him, my brow furrowed in confusion. What on earth was going on? Booth was usual a rather rational human being, so referring to aliens in a serious form of context clearly showed a serious problem.

Eventually I turned back to the lab. Hodgins was now over at his microscope; apparently he hadn't heard any of our conversation. Probably a good thing, since he'd have leaped at the opportunity to discuss the possibility of life in other parts of the universe. I just wasn't in the mood to listen to his conspiracy theories at the moment. I was worried about Booth. He was taking this seriously... _why was he taking this seriously?_

The need to see whatever it was they'd found in the brain of the victim was becoming overwhelming. Curiosity could be a human's worst enemy, I thought irritably, and then forced myself to focus and get back to work on the other case, the _current_ case.

The alien thing would wait until it was actually _my_ case. Right now, this thirty year old Caucasian male needed identifying.

* * *

Unshockingly, Booth returned within the next two hours with the body. Ange and Fisher were working on the identification of our other case's victim, so I moved my priorities to this one.

The FBI team transferred the remains to one of our evidence tables, muttered a few half-sarcastic 'good-luck's and then hurried away. (I only realized they were being sarcastic after a rather long explanation from Booth... but let's skip that part and move on.)

It was more fleshy than my other bodies, which was irritating since I knew I'd have to give it over to Cam for quite some time before I could get full access of the bones. But for now I could focus on the thing that had alarmed Booth so badly.

The _thing_, a silvery substance, was already separated from the skull and in a special evidence container. I unsealed the lid carefully, my fresh pair of rubber gloves already on my hands, and peered in. Booth watched nervously from a little ways away.

It was strange, him acting this way. It almost made _me_ nervous, and the strange silvery goop, no matter how _strange_, wasn't enough to make me afraid or anything. Yet it didn't seem... quite right, as Booth might have said. There was something _off_, yes those were his words from earlier. I could sort of see what he meant, actually.

The substance certainly was nothing like anything I'd ever seen. It was disconcerting, this feeling of not understanding when I was here, in my lab, surrounded in things I comprehended. Outside, when Booth was in his element, I was used to feeling a bit confused or overwhelmed by what he was able to do. But _here_, in my lab, it was a bit alarming.

Booth could see the frown on my face, and he shifted himself slightly, becoming more anxious as I tilted the container to observe its movement. It swirled and moved in a completely incorrect manner. It didn't behave like liquid. My frown increased as my brain desperately tried to think of what substances combined might create this.

"Hodgins!" I called. The entomologist quickly joined us; I could tell he'd been eager to leave the other case's particulates behind as soon as he'd seen the interesting new specimen come through the door.

"Yes, Dr. Brennan?" His eyes were going back and forth from me to the silver in the container, until finally they just stayed at the container and didn't come back to me.

"What do you think it is?" I asked calmly.

Both Booth and I seemed to be waiting with bated breath as he studied it and swirled a tool through it. He pulled out a bit to sample and we followed him silently to his microscope.

He let out a slight whistle as he peered at it.

"What?" Booth demanded tensely.

Hodgins looked up, his icy eyes wider than I'd ever seen them. The blood had drained from his face.

"What is it?" I asked, feeling a fresh tinge of worry.

"I... I don't _know_." He whispered.

Booth and I turned to look at each other, and I saw my feelings reflected in his eyes. We were both confused beyond reason, and I could feel the completely irrational fear building up. What was _wrong_ with me today? This substance shouldn't have this affect on me; it was wrong.

I spoke up then, my voice firm and confident, "Well then, we'll just have to figure it out."

* * *

It was easier to focus on the parts that I could understand. Cam had finished removing the victims flesh and we, meaning myself and Mr. Nigel Murray, were busy studying the bones.

"Stab victim," he commented rather obviously.

I nodded and picked up a piece of broken rib with knife marks on it. I frowned. This was obviously cause of death, so what was that silvery substance?

"Did you know-"

"I'm sure she doesn't know whatever it is, Mr. Murray, and I'm sure I don't either," Cam interrupted, joining us. "I'm also pretty sure we won't care, either."

He looked away, muttering a quick apology. I knew he'd be spouting facts again shortly anyhow. He always did, no matter how many times Cam, Angela, Hodgins, Booth, _and_ I reprimanded him for it.

"Tell me you have an update?" She said, turning to me and making it a question.

"We're doing our absolute best," I said defensively. "Cause of death appears to be several stab wounds... in accordance with the substance that is our reason for taking on this particular case, however, we are still in the darkness."

"Dark," said a familiar voice. "It's in the _dark_, Bones. Not dark_ness_."

I frowned irritably and then focused back on the skeleton, choosing to ignore him.

He sighed, but before he could speak Cam started. "Do _you_ have any new information?" she asked him.

"That's why I'm here, Camille," I could practically hear that cocky grin that was most certainly on his face.

"Then what is it, _Seeley?"_

"We've got our killer. So... c'mon Bones, let's get a move on."

I glared up at him. "We're still working here, you know."

"Yeah will Mr. Factoid can handle the bone work right now I think. Let's go."

"Did you know that factoid is actually-"

"Shut up." Booth's tone gave no room for argument. His slightly amused voice was now hard and serious. The flustered Nigel quickly snapped his mouth shut and ducked his head. "Bones, get your coat." Booth told me firmly.

I glared more furiously, but did comply. I slipped off the lab coat and snatched my jacket from where I'd draped it over the back of Angela's chair. Together we left the lab, leaving Cam and Mr. Murray there alone.

Just as we were headed through the doors I heard Nigel say, "You know, there is a little known fact where-"

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Well, what do you think so far? This is the beginning of the invasion, as you might have been able to tell since no one really knows what is happening yet. I don't think Host characters will make an appearance, just the basic storyline and idea. So... worth continuing... bad idea... etc... you get the idea. Review and let me know what you think??


	2. Chapter 2

The suspect was beyond a doubt guilty, I thought calmly from the other side of the glass. He'd already admitted it, more than once, and next to me Sweets was adamantly agreeing with my conclusion. What was frustrating was the fact that the killer had not a clue in the world about the silver substance.

"Mr. Johnson, did you notice any sign of mental illness about your girlfriend?" Booth was asking. The killer had identified the victim to be one Judie Russell. His guilty conscience had apparently got the best of him and he'd turned himself in this morning, confessing to the stabbing and admitting that he'd been planning to kill her for weeks.

"No, there was nothing. I don't understand, agent Booth, I've admitted to the murder, why are you still questioning me?"

"He's telling the truth," Sweets said logically. "You can tell from his tone and body language... he really has no clue about the silver. Plus, we're probably looking for some sort of scientist, someone with the background to implant something like that-"

Booth cleared his throat and glared at the one-way mirror. Sweets shut up quickly.

"I'll be back with further questions at another time. Another agent will accompany you to your cell, I'm sure." He got up and went out the door, a moment later joining us in the observation room. "Okay," he said in frustration. "That gets us nowhere. Just the typical murderer, except with a guilt-wracked mind instead of a sick deranged one. We're no closer to finding where the genetic thingy came from."

"Actually, there's no proof it was of genetic relation, mutation created or otherwise," I informed him carefully. His temper was clearly in danger. He brushed his hand through his hair.

"Yeah, that's just great." He turned and stormed back out. We followed him at a slower pace. I frowned worriedly; Booth wasn't handling the frustration very well. I was irritated as well, being completely out of my element with my whole inability to identify the substance, but I was coping just fine.

"Booth, maybe you should relax and take a break," I suggested tentatively.

"Why?" he snapped. "That's not going to help anything either."

"You'll be able to think much more clearly if you were to calm down. You're muscles would relax and the blood flow-"

"Bones, I _really_ don't need a scientific explanation for my emotions right now, 'kay?"

I tried to keep the hurt out of my eyes, but knew I must have failed when his melted into chocolate pools.

"I'm sorry, Bones," he sighed. "I just... I can see that this is bugging you, not being able to identify something in your own home."

"The Jeffersonian isn't-"

"It is, Bones. It just is, okay? I hate not being able to do anything, but seeing _you_ not able to do anything at the same time is just... not _natural_."

I smiled softly. "Thanks, Booth. We'll figure this out, don't worry."

"God... I hope so."

"Ange is going to try to use the volume and the indents created in the brain tissue to see if she can recreate what it might have looked like when it was attached to the brain."

"That's good. Progress, at least, right?"  
"Yup. Progress."

We stood there in silence together for a moment.

"Fascinating," commented a voice, breaking us out of our thoughts. I sighed. Once again, Sweets was observing us like we were lab rats. "The way you interact and solve problems... it's like an intimate connection that..." he trailed off. "That... _isn't_ intimate," he quickly tacked on the end. Booth's glare looked like it may have been actually burning the young psychologist. Sweets laughed uneasily. "Right, observe in silence. I remember."

Booth continued to glare, but finally turned away, to me, and slid his arm around behind me to guide me away like he loved doing in his alpha-male way. I didn't mind; this felt good, and I could tell he had begun to relax as I had suggested. I let myself relax too. Now that he was calm, and that I knew why he'd been so very frustrated... that it had been because he was worried about _me_ being frustrated, I was finding that things seemed to be much easier to comprehend. Not that his logic made any sense at all. Why on earth should he let how I felt dictate his emotions as well? Especially when I clearly wasn't as bothered by the situation as he had been.

But I had been bothered, I reminded myself. And why had I been bothered to start with? Because _he_ was.

God, that was unhealthy. I was going to have to keep myself in better control; letting others influence my reactions and emotions wasn't a good thing... because it made me vulnerable. I thought I'd been doing well at that. I guess I was only deluding myself.

We found ourselves in the Diner a while later, after plenty of argue... _bickering_, on the ride over. We had "accidentally" forgotten Sweets and left him behind. We took our seats at our usual table, and the waitress smiled widely and simply asked, "What flavor today, sir?"

"Apple," he responded, barely looking at her. She turned to me next, a bit reluctantly.

"And what can I get you?" she clearly didn't like me as much as Booth. I couldn't fathom why; neither of us ever really spoke to the waitresses here other than to order.

"I'll take the rice pudding," I replied. She nodded and walked away after flashing another grin at my partner.

I frowned, thought for a moment, and then, "She likes you," I concluded.

"What?" he sputtered.

"The waitress. She clearly shows signs of sexual interest in you."

"Jeez, Bones, can you phrase that a little better?" he muttered.

"Um... she shows signs of interest in a sexual manner towards you?"

He groaned. "Never mind."

She returned a moment later with our desserts. "If you need anything, just call me and I'll be here in a flash." She was aiming her words at him only.

"... Believe me now?" I asked when she was gone. I smiled softly in amusement.

"Huh?" he asked, bring a fork loaded with pie to his lips. He hadn't looked away from me the whole time she'd been putting the dishes in front of us.

"You seriously didn't notice that?" I asked incredulously.

He frowned, looking seriously bewildered. "No... I didn't really even hear her."

I rolled my eyes. Sometimes he made no sense. How on earth could _he_, the heart person, the people person, not notice when someone was flirting with him? Was he so intently focused on something else, the case perhaps, that he was oblivious to all else?

I glanced up at him again, and saw his eyes flick immediately away and down to his pie. I frowned, but chose to ignore it. Today he just wasn't making sense. But then again, when had Booth ever made complete sense to me?

Maybe I was the oblivious one, and this was one of those things where he was being obvious and I totally didn't get it. So incredibly frustrating.

But for the moment, the trip here had been successful. Both of our minds seemed to be off of the unidentifiable substance; mine was focused on trying to understand him and his was... well who knew? From the look on his face it was something happy though, so I ruled out work as an option.

I didn't notice as I lowered my eyes to my pudding that his eyes flew immediately back to my face, the chocolate depths melting once again and a soft smile forming on his lips.

* * *

Two solitary figures stood across the street in the darkness, staring at the couple that they could see through the window.

"Is that her?" the taller one asked.

"Yes, that's Dr. Brennan," responded the woman.

"Shame," he commented, "They seem like they really try to help human kind."

She snorted. "They can't be helped. You know that. We must do our jobs and she is clearly going to be a threat. Over-intelligent humans, especially those that are working so close to the remains of one of ours, most be taken over. They all will be eventually anyways. It's the only way to save it all."

He nodded. "Of course, I understand that. It's just a shame there weren't more like them. Then our jobs might not be necessary here; they might have saved their own planet from what has become of it."

She managed to nod reluctantly. "I can agree there. But there's no use wishing. Come, let us go position ourselves. This must be done with the utmost care. Otherwise we will be forced to take care of him as well, and that would arouse far more suspicion. Something we can't have."

They vanished once more into the shadows of the night.

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**Well, what do you think? This story hasn't been getting much attention, so if you want more then you will have to let me know, okay?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, chapter 3 is here at last. Sorry about the long wait.**

* * *

I walked through my front door, dumping my bag on the table. Booth was still standing partially in the hall, and I sighed. "...would you like something to drink?" I asked, not really sure why I wasn't just telling him to go home already and get some _sleep_.

He smiled that cocky grin, "Sure, Bones, as long as your fridge doesn't blow up on me." He stepped in and shut the door behind him.

I didn't return the smile. He was trying to joke; to be friendly, but that memory wasn't something I could joke about, even all this time later. _He'd_ been the one knocked unconscious while _I'd _been the one freaking out and desperately hoping he wasn't dead. Part of me was actually quite relieved he _had_ been unconscious for that little episode.

He sighed softly and his smile faded. "Sorry, Bones," he murmured.

I shook my head, "It's fine, Booth, really. And I assure you that my refrigerator is not going to explode tonight. What would you like to drink?"

He followed me to the kitchen.

"How about a beer?"

I gave him a reprimanding look. "You're going to be driving home," I reminded him, and then shoved a can of soda at him.

"Thanks," he said, his smile returning as he popped it open and took a sip.

We stood there awkwardly for a minute; I had no idea what to say or do. I was actually kind of hoping he'd just leave now, so I wouldn't be so confused about my emotions. I felt far more anxious when we were both in my apartment; it was something I couldn't identify and something highly irritating.

"So... you want to listen to some music?" he asked, clearly remembering that I still hadn't replaced my tv.

I looked at him calmly for a moment and then shook my head carefully. "No, I need to get some sleep; we've got a lot of paperwork to do on that case; not to mention we still haven't identified the substance in the brain, and I'm still working the previous case as well. They both need my full alertness."

"I got it Bones, I understand... see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Tomorrow. Bye."

"Yup, and... thanks for the soda..." He smiled at me again as he tossed the can across the room and it landed with a clang in my trash bin. Impressive shot, I observed.

He headed for the door, turning and giving me a farewell salute and another wide, cocky grin as he pulled it shut behind him.

Alone at last I sighed and headed straight for my couch.

I had not a clue that that was the last time it would just be me and him together and safe. I had no idea that this would be the last time I would sleep here in my own apartment, with my thoughts on a case and not on my own personal safety.

Who would have thought about it though, really? Hodgins maybe. But not me.

The following morning I got up a little later than usual; yesterday had been exhausting and I hadn't even been able to fall asleep for an hour at least after Booth had left.

I hurried through a shower and skipped breakfast, thinking that I'd get reprimanded for that later by Booth, who always seemed to care way too much about my eating habits. I snatched my bag from where I'd left it and then hurried down to my car, my keys jingling in my hand.

I was distracted by the time as I glanced at my watch and simultaneously unlocked the door. I climbed in, but didn't even get the chance to turn the key in the ignition.

I cried out as the needle stabbed into my arm, and spun, attempting to slug whoever it was in the face, but they easily dodged. And then whatever I'd been jabbed with took effect. I was vaguely aware that my mouth wasn't moving even though I was screaming in my head, and then I collapsed weakly and my eyes slid shut.

The world went black and stayed that way.

I groaned, lifting my head and looking around with bleary eyes. It was very, _very_ bright, and I blinked rapidly, still feeling quite dazed. I got the impression I'd been out for quite a long time... perhaps days, from the size of my headache.

I tried to move but found that it wasn't actually possible. I managed a gasp of alarm as my eyes went wide and I fought to move _anything_. My neck appeared to be the only mobile part of me, other than that and my fingers, which could still twitch... nothing. I lifted my head as far as it would go until I could see what was holding me down. I was bound to a metal table with iron straps that went around my arms, wrists, legs, ankles, and waist. Completely immobilized.

"The patient is awake," a quiet and calm voice murmured.

I tilted my head to the side but couldn't get a good look at him. All I could see was that he was in a white lab coat, and he appeared to be rather tall. Another man came around the corner; this one I could see more clearly, seeing as he was in my direct line of sight.

He was of sturdy build with a clean shaven face and neat, short, blonde hair. A tiny pair of glasses made his eyes look beady and calculating, and he held a clipboard sturdily in his long-fingered hands. He observed me in silence, looking me up and down as though I were a piece of furniture.

I glared at him, but I knew the terror was showing in my eyes. I was _so_ not in control of this situation, and it scared me, as much as I hated to admit that. I was briefly reminded of Kenton and that whole ordeal. Sure, I'd recovered well; trauma didn't have a lasting effect on me, but during the actual event... heck I'd been _terrified_. I didn't even want to imagine what I must have looked like to Booth as he came through that door and saw me with my hands bound and that gag in my mouth, my eyes wide and tear-filled.

"Relax, we aren't going to hurt you," he informed me as he set down the clipboard on a table to the side.

"Then what _do_ you want?" I asked carefully, keeping my voice in check. I was relieved when it didn't quaver or break.

"You were simply getting too close to something far beyond your understanding. You needed to be... taken off the case, as you might say."

"...I don't understand. Tony Johnson killed Ms. Russell. We have his confession. Why would I be of any threat to you? Or does this have to do with Haley Martin?" I referenced the other case's victim, who Ange had identified last night and called me with the update. This man I was speaking to didn't have a weapon and he'd shown me no physical threat so far, so I was able to ask my questions without a large excess of fear lurking in the back of my mind. I was still cautious though, not wanting to suddenly upset my captors and _turn_ them violent.

"No, this is about Ms. Russell," he assured me calmly. "You see, she was here not too long ago, right in this lab."

_Lab_. The word resonated in my mind and immediately I pictured the silvery substance swirling unnaturally in the container before me. This was about _that_, I realized. What did this place have to do with that? Had these people done that to Judy Russell, implanted that _thing_ in her brain? What sort of place was this?

The table suddenly felt twice as cold and forbidding.

Did they intend to do that to me too?

Immediately I ran through all the ways to get out of this, analyzing and dismissing each one in frustration. I kept coming back to the same problem: the metal restraints that bound me to this table. My only options were talking my way out of this... not likely since these people were obviously highly intelligent scientists... or being rescued.

I recalled how I'd been so certain that Booth would find Hodgins and I when we were buried alive in my car. But there was a nagging part of my brain that was telling me that he wouldn't be able to do that this time. I wished it would be quiet, but I couldn't ignore reason, and being rational at this moment was highly important. After all, I thought logically, when I'd been captured by the Gravedigger, Hodgins and I had been alone in the car without enemies anywhere nearby, _and_ we'd been able to get a message out to our friends so that they could locate us.

Here, on the other hand, Booth would have no clue where I was.

I felt my heart beat a bit faster at that last thought. _Wait, _I thought in sudden alarm, _haven't I already concluded that I've been here for a long period of time? Booth must already know I'm missing!_

Oh god, as if things couldn't get worse as it was. Now I had the guilt of Booth's worry loaded onto my already large troubles. He must be freaking out, if I knew him as well as I was sure I did. After all, when he'd been kidnapped, _both_ times, I'd been in not the greatest mood. Angela had told me it was called 'complete hysterics with an added dose of rage'.

I was certain that right now, Booth, Ange, and the rest of my team must be gathered around in the lab. Booth was probably shouting at them and they were trying desperately to function under pressure. I knew they were probably having great difficulty focusing when a pissed off FBI agent was pacing around behind them looking like he wanted to smash things. At least that's how Ange had described the events after my Gravedigger kidnapping.

"What are you going to do with me?" I worked up the courage to ask. I needed to know what sort of imminent danger I might be in. I desperately tried to read his face, but he'd moved and now stood in a place where I couldn't get a good view of his expressions.

There was silence for a moment, and then he finally spoke again.

"All things come to an end, and some things come to a beginning," he said, his voice chillingly soft and airy.

I shivered involuntarily, and then winced as the door shut loudly behind the two men.

Fading footsteps in the distance from behind it were the last sounds, and then silence.

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**As with the last time, I'll wait until I get some reviews before posting more. I'm not going to update if I think no one's even reading this.**

**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed/given support. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Wow, I'm sorry about the long wait for this chapter. I kept forgetting about this story what with the latest episodes and my other stories... Hope you enjoy this, even if it isn't very long :)**

* * *

_Booth POV_

"What do you _mean_, the security cameras didn't catch anything?" I snapped furiously.

"I'm sorry, agent Booth," stammered the young man in front of me. "The cameras appear to have failed... I already explained this to the police... we're looking for the problem now..."

"You had better be," I growled. "Get me a key to her room, _now_."

"But sir, the police said-"

"Do I look like I _care_ what the police said? FBI, pal. I'm taking over this case. Now, _key."_

His hand shook as he pulled out his key ring and nervously flipped through the keys. They jingled incessantly as he desperately went through them, sweat beading on his forehead under my furious gaze. At last he unhooked one and shoved it at me, looking more and more afraid by the minute.

"Thank you," I snapped, and then headed straight for the elevator.

_Twelve hours_. The words echoed in my head. Twelve _long_ hours. That was how long my Bones had been unaccounted for. I glared at the elevator doors and tapped my foot impatiently. _Hurry up... I need to see her apartment..._

There had to be some sort of sign there, no matter how much the police had denied it. Heck, the stupid police seemed to do nothing _but_ deny. I hadn't been allowed here at all while they sorted through the preliminary evidence... which there was _none _of anyways...

They'd been claiming it 'wasn't federal'. Well I'd _made _it federal, that was for sure. I'd done quite a bit of lying and such to get myself here, but Cullen had been sympathetic for the most part. My boss's main concern seemed to be that I wasn't able to handle this; that I might snap and beat somebody up for not doing their job thoroughly enough. That wasn't exactly out of the picture of course... if I found out that someone was at fault for missing some evidence or not being thorough enough... I'd beat them to a pulp.

I kept myself as calm as I could as the 'ding' signified I'd reached the right floor. The doors opened and I saw a woman standing there waiting for the elevator. I pushed my way past her roughly and she stared after me in flustered shock. I ignored her and headed down the hall, tracing the familiar route to Bones' apartment.

The key slid into the lock and a moment later I was through the door. Part of me was wishing that it hadn't fit or something so that I could have an excuse to knock down the door. That might help take out some frustration, certainly.

Her apartment was so clean it was infuriating. Yet, I knew I should be happy. Would it have made things better if her stuff was smashed and broken with clear signs of a struggle? No. There was no way I wanted that. Because that meant she might be hurt.

Clean was good, very good, I assured myself.

It was more than a little strange, being here without her. I felt like I was intruding, like maybe any second I'd hear, "What the heck are you doing, Booth?" and I'd turn to see her standing there, hands on her hips and her eyes blazing with her mouth half open in that unmistakable incredulously shocked look that I got so often from her...

But of course that didn't happen. I remained all alone.

I pulled on the rubber gloves that felt tight and uncomfortable over my skin and then began to dig through her stuff that appeared to have been placed in its locations most recently. Her mail... a few magazines on her living room coffee table... a few loose files on the edge of the couch... a few CDs lying on the table.

I picked up one and smiled softly. Foreigner.

But the smile vanished quickly and I moved on. I couldn't think back to past events with the future shadowing so dangerously over me. The future where I may never see her again.

I frowned. _Stop that,_ I snapped angrily at my thoughts. _That's not going to help anything._

As annoying as it was, the police had been right. There _was_ nothing here. I sighed and dropped down onto her couch. I peeled of my gloves and then picked up the nearest pillow. I just sort of stared at it for a very long time, and then cautiously, as though I was still worried she may walk in and interrupt me, I lifted it to my face and pressed the soft fabric against my skin.

It smelled like her, I thought with another sorrowful sigh. I pressed my face deeper into it and attempted to pretend it was her soft auburn hair. It wasn't a very good replacement, when I compared it to the actual thing, but it would have to do.

I flopped back on the couch and gave up avoiding the past. Hey, it had already happened and there was nothing I could do but worry in relation to the future at the moment, something I was trying to keep myself from doing. I'd spent enough time worrying. The past twelve hours, to be exact.

I recalled my favorite fantasy, which I had started to imagine, quite guiltily, after we'd taken care of Andy. It involved a small house on the edge of D.C. and evenings in front of that flat screen tv with my arm around her and her head rested sweetly on my shoulder. Her auburn hair would be spread out softly over my shirt and I would be able to twist my head around and kiss her every few minutes without her getting scared or freaking out.

And more recently I'd started wishing for a little Andy of my own... with her. That would make that scene complete. The two of us cuddled up together on the couch with the small child between us, the perfect mix of both of us, with her eyes and her hair and my smile. Or maybe her smile. Actually, if our baby were to look completely like her I'd be more than happy.

_Cut it out!_ I snapped angrily at myself, and then swore a few times out loud and got up from the couch. The more I wished for the completely impossible the worse pain I was going to cause myself. I ran desperately from the apartment, suddenly having a hard time breathing properly. My heart was throbbing painfully and my vision was blurred.

Outside, I gasped for air and then quickly blinked my eyes to clear them. I must have... must have gotten some dust in them...

I quickly locked the door and then made my way to the elevator feeling slightly dizzy and disoriented. I hit the button and waited for the elevator, not feeling like I could stay here a moment longer or I might not survive. My heart was already pounding at a ridiculous rate and I was sweating.

I had to find her. I _had_ to.

_I couldn't live without her... _

* * *

**Poor Booth :(**

**Oh, and sorry if anyone is finding Booth OOC, I guess writing in first person from Brennan's POV sorta makes him seem weird. I'll have to work on that. **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: First off, I apologize to anyone that thought this was a new chapter. It isn't. However, I do have some good news. I have started a collaboration story with listenWITHyourHEART. It is a Bones/Host crossover and it has the same title as this one. It will actually be completed, don't worry, and I'm quite excited about it. If you are still interested in the concept that I was attempting to get to (but failed at horribly) with this story, please do check out The Heart in the Host by listenTOtempejillsHEART.**

**And yeah, I am still really sorry about never finishing this one. I lost my inspiration, but regained it in a different form. I hope that's enough to make it up to all of you. :/  
**


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